


Graveyard Letters

by thomasthemiller



Series: Life After Neil [2]
Category: Dead Poets Society (1989)
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Family, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:06:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24411787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thomasthemiller/pseuds/thomasthemiller
Summary: A glimpse into three Christmases Todd Anderson spends with his family in the years following Neil's death
Relationships: Todd Anderson/Neil Perry, Todd Anderson/Original Character(s)
Series: Life After Neil [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1857898
Comments: 10
Kudos: 41





	1. Christmas One

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on fanfiction.net. I've made some ever-so minor alterations to this version. 
> 
> I wrote the first two chapters in 2013, and completed chapter three in 2020. Turns out I really needed something to do while self-isolating.

Todd stared miserably into his bowl of lukewarm soup.

_If Hell is other people,_ he thought, _Hell would be the people who will be at the Danburry’s Christmas Party._

It wasn’t a nice thing to think, but to Todd, it was the truth. He had absolutely no desire to go to that party, where he would probably see the Camerons, and Mr. Nolan, and God forbid…Mr. and Mrs. Perry. Todd honestly didn’t know if he could stand it.

_If only I could have explained that to my parents,_ he thought bitterly, as he prodded his still uneaten soup with a spoon.

“Todd, are you going to eat that?” Jeffrey was at the kitchen door. Of course.

“Probably not,” Todd mumbled, without looking up. “I’m not hungry…”

“You really need to eat something,” Jeffrey insisted, as he moved to sit at the table across from Todd. “You’ve spent nearly all of break moping around in your room, Todd. It’s not good for you.”

Todd knew his brother was just trying to be well intentioned, but he couldn’t help but feel annoyed.

“I h-haven’t been moping. I’ve been reading and writing and….”

“Not to mention drinking all the orange juice and hot tea we have in the house,” Jeffrey added.

“I’ve had a cold!” Todd protested.

“I know, I know,” Jeffrey said, “but I can’t help but be worried about you. Dad told me that you asked not to go to the Danburry’s party.”

“Can you h-honestly blame me?” asked Todd. “I m-mean…don’t mom and dad r-realize why I don’t want to go? I know Dad insists that my staying at home would be ‘discourteous, and horribly embarrassing for our family’ _,_ b-but Jeff, I c-can’t go to that party.”

Jeffrey sighed, and got up from the table. “Sometimes you’ve got to do things you don’t want to do, Todd. Just take a few deep breaths. Calm yourself down. Go to the party, answer all the boring questions they ask about your studies, and enjoy the free food. You’ll be all right. I promise.”

As Jeff left the kitchen, Todd yet again looked down and poked at the soup. Jeffrey only wanted to help, and Todd knew that, but it was hard to explain to someone that a Christmas party had the potential to trigger an emotional breakdown.

“Todd!” He heard his mother call from the living room. “We’re leaving in just a few minutes!”

Todd groaned. One last desperate attempt to stay home couldn’t hurt, could it? “Can I p-please not go? I haven’t eaten anything all day!”

It didn’t take long for Todd to realize he had said the wrong thing. His father was standing in the kitchen door, clearly unhappy. “Well, that’s your own fault, Todd. I already told you. You are going to the party, and that is final.”

Todd’s mother, who had walked into the kitchen as well, tried to take a gentler approach. “Your friend Knox will be there,” she said. “Don’t you want to visit with him?”

“Knox came by and gave me another box of tea yesterday, mom,” Todd said. “So I’ve already seen him. And b-besides…I’m sure _he_ understands why I d-don’t w-want to go!”

At this point, Mr. Anderson was completely fed up. “That’s enough, Todd. No more arguing. Put your shoes on, and get in the car.”

Todd, not wanting to upset his father any further, did as he was told.

That’s how Todd later found himself wedged on a couch in between Knox and Cameron, as the three of them were practically interrogated by Mr. Nolan.

“So, boys. I take it your studies are going well? Remind me again what your majors are.”

Cameron nodded. “Pre-law, sir.” 

“And how is Harvard treating you, Mr. Cameron?”

“Excellent, sir.”

_Wow,_ Todd thought. _Cameron certainly hasn’t changed one bit._

“What about you, Mr. Overstreet?”

“Pre-law as well, sir,” said Knox. “I’m liking it all right.”

“And you, Mr. Anderson?”

Todd had been hoping that Mr. Nolan would just ignore him, but he knew that had just been wishful thinking.

“E-English,” Todd muttered. “I’m f-focusing on literature and journalism.”

“Well, I suppose journalism is a decent career,” Mr. Nolan told him, “particularly for someone who doesn’t talk much.”

Todd felt himself turn bright red. This whole situation was embarrassing, but he figured it could be much, much worse.

“Did any of you join any clubs this semester?” asked Mr. Danburry cheerfully, as he strolled into the living room and sat on a couch next to his wife.

“I’ve started debate team,” Cameron said, with a somewhat smug look on his face. “We’ve already won all of our competitions this year.”

This sent Mr. Overstreet reminiscing. “You ought to join debate team, Knox. I still remember when Joe and I were on debate team together at Yale. It’s a good time.”

Mr. Danburry nodded in his agreement. “Some of the best times I remember,” he mused.

Knox looked slightly exasperated. “I’ve told you, dad. I don’t really want to join debate team.” 

Mr. Overstreet sighed. “We’ve talked about this, Knox. You have to do more than play intramural soccer!”

“Well,” Knox began, “I actually did agree to help the Literature Society with their Valentine’s Day fundraiser. We’re selling handwritten love poetry to idiots who can’t write it themselves….”

For the first time in days, Todd found himself laughing aloud, imagining all the poor people who would be getting Knox’s ridiculous love poems for Valentines Day.

Chris, who had been sitting next to Knox all this time, leaned over, giggled, and kissed him on the forehead. “Fortunately for me, my boyfriend actually does write his own poetry.”

Chet, who was sitting across the room, glowered a little bit. He still wasn’t entirely over his old girlfriend dumping him for Knox.

“Are you in any clubs, Todd?” Mr. Overstreet asked, rather amiably. Everyone at this party was so cheerful. It was driving Todd half insane.

“Certainly not debate team,” Cameron muttered under his breath. This didn’t bother Todd much, as Cameron had always been a prick.

“I’m writing for the school paper and the literary magazine,” Todd said. By the looks on people’s faces, everyone was massively surprised that Todd actually did _anything._

“All of this writing,” said Mr. Overstreet. “Well, at least you boys aren’t reading poetry in a cave any more…”

Knox and Todd gave each other an uncomfortable look. This was not where they wanted this conversation to go.

“That whole ordeal was a ridiculous whim,” Cameron said, “and I think we all realize that now.”

Todd shot him a glare, and without caring that the adults were watching, he momentarily snapped. Someone had to, since Charlie wasn’t there to do it himself.

“You know that’s not true, Cameron.” 

Now, everyone was really staring at Todd. _Most people haven’t experienced one of my outbursts,_ Todd thought. _Well, Knox, Cameron and Mr. Nolan have, but any time I do something like this, I still take people by surprise._

Mr. Anderson had a look of utter embarrassment on his face, and he was the first to break the silence. “I’m so sorry about this,” he said, and looking at Mr. and Mrs. Danburry, he said, “You will have to excuse me and my son for a moment.”

Todd gulped as he got up from his seat and followed his father into the kitchen. His hands felt clammy, and his breathing was getting somewhat erratic. He really had no desire to talk about his ‘little outbursts’, because he knew that could only lead to disaster. He was sure the Danburrys didn’t want a vicious argument to break out at their Christmas party.

Mr. Anderson was less than thrilled. “We’ve talked about this kind of behavior, Todd! I have no idea why you insist on acting like this, especially in public, but what I really don’t understand is how you, of all people, still seem to think this…this…rebellion is healthy! Your mother and I did not bring you so you could behave like this. You know better.”

Todd knew he could just mumble an apology, and everyone would go on pretending like nothing had happened, but he couldn’t bring himself to do that. “W-well, m-maybe if you actually had r-raised me as if you _cared_ about me, I wouldn’t act like this!”

Mr. Anderson looked as if someone had punched him in the face, and it was in that instant that Mrs. Danburry opened the kitchen door.

“Is everything all right?” she asked. “We could hear some shouting, and everyone was a little worried…Mr. and Mrs. Perry are here, by the way. You must have missed the doorbell ring, what with the arguing…”

Todd, who had turned a sick shade of white at those words, mumbled, “I-I’m j-just going to step outside.” He made a dash for the back door, clearly gasping for air.

“Is he going to be all right?” asked a concerned Mrs. Danburry.

“Oh, he’ll come around,” assured Mr. Anderson, who had no desire to feel more ashamed of Todd’s behavior. “He just has his moments. I’ll chat with him later. “

Todd, who was still running on a completely empty stomach, vomited a pool of bile on the Danburry’s driveway. He wiped his mouth, his sweat and his panic subsiding. He knew he couldn’t go back in to the party, because if he did, he would completely lose it again, and no one wanted any more of that.

_I know where I’m going to go,_ Todd thought. He was going to go pay a visit to the one person he needed now more than anyone.

The cemetery was vast, cold, dark and snow covered, but Todd quickly found what he was looking for; a headstone with the name _Neil Perry_ etched into it. Todd bit his lip, trying to stop himself from bursting into tears. How stupid had he been, thinking he would come here to talk to Neil when Neil was…was… _dead._ It wasn’t as if Neil could talk back. Todd plopped down on the grass next to the gravestone, and started to cry.

_None of this is okay,_ Todd thought. _Neil should be alive, and we both should be happy, and I shouldn’t have to deal with this every time I come home…and…and…I just wish I could say something to him!_ Then it dawned on Todd. He wouldn’t say anything. He would write it! It felt a little silly to him, the idea of leaving a note on a gravestone, but for some reason, it made him feel a little better. 

Todd always kept a little pen and notebook in his pocket, just in case he was struck with inspiration. Or, in this case, a time when he needed to spill out his feelings to a dead person. He took out the notebook and pen and began to write:

_Dear Neil,_

_You used to be the one thing that made living here somewhat bearable, and now, in a twisted way, you’re the one thing that makes it unbearable. I don’t mean to sound angry with you. I’m not exactly. Well, maybe I am. A little. You told me you loved me. And then you were gone, which absolutely destroyed me. No one had said the words “I love you” to me in years until you said them. That meant so much to me, Neil. I don’t think you realized just how much. You took such good care of me, and I feel a little guilty, because I wish I could have taken just as good care of you. But you never gave me the chance. I think that’s why I can’t help but be a little angry. Anyway, I went to the Danburry’s Christmas party tonight. It was awful. I ran out when your parents got there. And Knox is participating in some Valentine’s Day fundraiser where he gets to sell his terrible love poems. Can you believe that? Well, Merry Christmas, Neil. I miss you...a lot._

_Much Love,_

_Todd_

“Hey,” a voice said.

Todd, who had just torn his letter out and placed it on Neil’s grave, was completely taken by surprise. _Maybe ghosts actually do speak in cemeteries,_ he thought. _That would be kind of…creepy._

Todd knew better though, and when he looked up, he saw the concerned face of Knox Overstreet.

“I thought you’d be here,” said Knox. “I guess you didn’t notice my car pull up.”

“I didn’t,” Todd told him. “But I’m glad you came. Where’s Chris?”

“She stayed at the Danburry’s,” Knox said with a shrug. “She figured I should come talk to you alone. And besides, she doesn’t have the same problems around Mr. Perry that we do…” He trailed off, and then started to speak again. “I stopped at the store and bought flowers,” he said, holding up a couple of roses. “I figured it would only be right…”

He stooped and put the flowers next to Neil’s grave. “What’s that?” he asked, pointing at the letter.

“Something I wrote,” Todd told him. “I’m guessing you would rather me not read it,” Knox said, and Todd nodded. It was a private letter. _Not to mention,_ Todd thought with just a hint of amusement, _it insults Knox’s poetry…_

“Well,” said Knox, putting an arm around Todd’s shoulder. “Why don’t we ditch the party and go catch up over a beer or two?”

Todd, who thought this was a more than welcoming suggestion responded with, “most definitely.”

So, the two Dead Poets walked out of the graveyard ready for a much-needed evening of sucking the marrow out of life.


	2. Christmas Two

“Mommy! Mommy!”

The little boy in the back seat of the car poked his mother’s shoulder.

She turned around, mildly frustrated, and said, “You shouldn’t yell, Neil, darling. You’ll wake up your sister.”

He hadn’t woken her up though, as three-year-old Emily could sleep through anything.

“Mommy,” he said, now at a whisper. “Why are we going to see Daddy’s family again? Why aren’t we going to Granny and Grandpa’s?”

“Because your Granny and Grandpa went to visit your Aunt Charlotte in Savannah this Christmas,” said the mother. “So, we’re visiting your father’s parents and brother. They’ll be very excited to see us and no matter what your father says, they aren’t crazy.”

She said this last part in a firm manner, and looked over at her husband, who was driving.

“You only say that because you haven’t gotten to know them,” he told her, his eyes still on the road. “I grew up with these people. Believe me, they’re crazy.”

She sighed. “Todd….they were perfectly reasonable at our wedding.”

He took his eyes off the road for a moment to protest. “Cat, it was our wedding! I suspect that’s one of the few things in my l-life they won’t try to ruin!”

Catherine loved Todd dearly, but she figured he was a bit too harsh on his family. Sure, from everything she knew, they weren't great, but she liked to give people the benefit of the doubt. In her mind, they must have gotten somewhat better.

She laid a comforting hand on his knee. “Deep breaths. You’ll be fine.”

“Mommy! Daddy!” Neil whispered from the back of the car. “Stop yelling. Emmy is sleeping!”

Todd chuckled, and whispered to Cat. “I think our five year old son just called us out on our hypocrisy.”

Cat smiled, glad that her husband seemed to be calming down a bit.

It was then that Emily woke up. “There yet?” she murmured sleepily.

“In ten minutes, dear,” her mother told her.

“That long?” she asked. 

“Ten minutes is really soon!” Neil blurted out. No one was asleep anymore, and he was certainly not a quiet kid. “We get to meet daddy’s mommy and daddy! They’re apparently crazy!”

Catherine buried her face in her hands. “Neil. Honey. Please do not call your grandparents crazy. In fact….” She looked over at Todd. “What _should_ they call your parents?”

He shrugged. “Knowing my parents…Grandmother and Grandfather. “

“But that’s boring!” Neil complained.

“Boring…” echoed his sister, who always savored the taste of unfamiliar words.

“What’s boring?”

“Not like mommy’s parents!” Neil told her.

Neil had been having some difficulties ever since his parents told him they weren’t going to Virginia for Christmas. He’d been standing in the living room of their house in Salem when he heard. He was silent for a minute, then said, “But Granny and Grandpa!” and promptly burst into tears. Little Neil was so dramatic it half destroyed Todd.

The family’s car turned into a driveway.

“Well, this is it. We’re here,” Catherine said.

“God help me, Cat,” Todd groaned.

“You will get out of this car, you know,” she told him. “It won’t be that bad.”

“I…n-neglected to mention that the last time I came here for C-Christmas, I was a freshman in college.”

Todd hadn’t wanted to tell his wife this, because as uncomfortable as he was with going to his parent’s, he didn’t want anyone else to feel that way.

“You what?” She was shocked. “How is that even possible?”

“I spent Christmases with friends, mostly,” he said. “And other holidays too. Then you came along.”

“Damn.” She breathed, and then quickly covered her mouth, embarrassed to have cursed in front of her kids. “You hate being here because of….” She knew. She knew everything, of course, but she couldn’t finish the sentence. Besides, little Neil would get curious if he heard his name said in such a somber way.

“Yeah.” That was all Todd could say.

Fortunately, that was all Todd had to say, because a cheery eyed Jeffrey was walking out to greet them. They had been sitting in the driveway for far longer than normal.

“Who’s that?” Emmy pointed at Jeff.

“Let’s get out of the car!” said Neil, who was practically bouncing up and down. New places excited him.

“That’s my brother,” Todd told his daughter with a smile. “And yes, we should probably get out, don’t you think?” He opened the car door.

“Todd!” Jeffrey greeted him with a hug. “I haven’t see you since the wedding, which has been what? Nearly six years now? My God, that’s a long time.”

Todd simply nodded, feeling strangled in his brother’s embrace. He knew that Jeff missed him, and felt a twinge of guilt for his antisocial behavior. It wasn’t that he felt like the inferior brother any more. He was at a point where he saw in himself far more than what his parents saw. Jeff was just part of a society Todd had divorced himself from years ago.

When Jeffrey let go, Todd was able to let out a few words. “Good to see you too.”

Jeff just grinned and patted him on the back. “I’ll help with some of your suitcases,” he said, and headed to the trunk of the car, where he was met with the bright face of a little boy.

“Who’re you?” Neil asked. Jeff ruffled the kid’s hair, and said, “You can call me Uncle Jeff. I’m your dad’s brother.”

“I don’t have a brother,” Neil said. He pointed over to where his sister and mom stood. “I have a sister. Her name is Emmy. She’s three. Mommy has a sister too. Aunt Charlotte. Granny and Grandpa went to visit her this year cause she moved to Georgia. That’s really far away and there are palm trees, which Mommy’s showed me pictures of. I’ve never seen a real one though…”

Cat, noticing her son’s incessant rambling, ran over to the back of the car. She put a hand on his shoulder, and said, “I’ll take you to see palm trees sometime, but right now, let’s go ring the doorbell and see your grandparents. Daddy and Uncle Jeffrey will unload the suitcases, okay?” She figured if the rest of them went inside, they could save Todd from any immediate awkwardness with his parents.

So, while Mr. and Mrs. Anderson greeted Cat, Neil and Emmy at the door, Todd and Jeff pulled the suitcases out of the trunk.

“What the hell did you put in this thing?” Jeffrey grunted, as he hoisted Todd’s book bag out of the car.

“Books, mostly,” Todd said. “And some notebooks.” He took the bag away from Jeff. “Did you bring anyone here with you? A girlfriend? I know you had a date at my wedding. Elizabeth, wasn’t it?”

“She dumped me,” Jeffrey said, pulling out another bag. “Despite being a young, successful lawyer, I can’t seem to stay in a relationship. I’m not perfect, you know.”

That last sentence was so snappy it startled Todd. He often forgot that even Jeff had touchy subjects. But, leave it Jeffrey to bring up the touchiest subject of them all.

“Ready for the Danburry’s Christmas party?”

Todd was taken aback for a moment, and ashen faced, he mumbled, “hardly.”

“It’ll be fine,” Jeffrey reassured him, as he slammed the trunk shut. “Nolan’s gone…er…”

“Yes, I know,” Todd said. “Three years ago. Dad called and begged me to come home for the funeral. Of course, that was the day Emmy was born, so that didn’t work out.”

“Speaking of the kids,” started Jeffrey, “I meant to tell you. I got a babysitter for the night of the party next week. Hannah. The family lives down the street. She goes to Henley Hall and is Red Cross certified.” 

So, the night of the Danburry’s annual Christmas party, Todd at least got to leave the house feeling like his kids were in remotely competent hands. He, however, had never felt more uncomfortable than when he entered the Danburry’s home for the second time.

Mrs. Danburry stood in the foyer. “The Andersons!” She said. “Wonderful. Hang your coats on the coat rack will you?” They did, and walked into the living room.

When Knox saw Todd, he was momentarily shocked. “You didn’t say you were in town!” he shouted. As rambunctious as that seemed to everyone else, Knox was thrilled to see Todd. He leaped off the couch and ran to embrace his friend.

Cat stood there, wracking her brain trying to remember Knox’s name. He had been best man at the wedding, she knew, but what in the world was his name? Then she was saved.

“Knox Overstreet.” He shook her hand. “I was in your wedding but I can’t seem to remember your…”

“Catherine,” she told him, “but I go by Cat.”

“As touching as this little scene is, why don’t you guys sit down?” That was Cameron. Tactless as always. Chris moved over on her couch to make more room. She and Knox had gotten married a several years before Todd and Catherine. They had an eight-year-old daughter, Marie.

“Todd Anderson,” said Mr. Overstreet. “Good gracious. We haven’t seen you in ages. What have you been up to, other than getting married and the like?”

“Work, mostly,” Todd said. “I write for the local newspaper. Not the most interesting, but on the other hand, I may get a book of poems published soon.” He didn’t know what he was thinking, bringing up poetry here. That was probably a stupid idea.

He was right, as the person he least wanted to see walked into the Danburry’s living room that very second. “I swore I heard someone mention poetry,” Mr. Perry said.

Todd had the horrible urge to be sick, which Catherine sensed, because she squeezed his hand tightly.

“You must have misheard,” Cameron said quickly. “Mrs. Overstreet was just talking about the pesky ants that keep getting into her kitchen. Pesky, not poetry.”

_Well,_ Todd thought. _Cameron isn’t always tactless._ He still felt nauseous, and Cat hadn’t let go of his hand even though it was cold and clammy.

Mrs. Overstreet was offended. “I never said my kitchen has ants. My kitchen does not have…oh.” Realizing the urgency of the situation, she gave up on her pride. “They are pesky.”

“So, Catherine, I take it you stay at home with your kids?” Chris, who had only met Cat once before was curious.

“Actually, the kids go to preschool and I work,” responded Catherine, “at the Children’s History Museum in Salem. I have a master’s degree in museum studies.”

“You went to grad school?” Ginny Danburry perked up. “Mom…Dad…why can’t I? I said I’d pay for it myself and everything.”

“Virginia, we’ve discussed this. You don’t need a masters degree in sociology,” was Mr. Danburry’s response. Ginny rolled her eyes, and Cat gave her a look of ‘we’ll talk later.’

“You have two kids, right?” Chris was ever curious, and in Todd’s mind, still somewhat annoying. Knox did love her though, which was what counted.

“We do,” said Cat. “Our son is five and our daughter is three.”

“What’re their names?”

It seemed like a harmless question, and Cat, who knew that Mr. and Mrs. Perry were in the room, figured she’d fib a little. “Emily and Nathaniel,” she said.

“Lovely names,” said Chris, a smile on her face.

“Wait,” Jeffrey said, his face a bit contorted with confusion. “Todd, your son’s name is definitely Neil….” Then, seeing the look on Mr. Perry’s face, he realized his mistake, and under his breath muttered, “shit.”

The silent tension of that moment was awful. Mrs. Danburry was the first to break it. “Um…would anyone like another glass of wine? I was going to refill mine.” A few people handed their glasses to Mrs. Danburry, but unfortunately, no one erupted back into chatter.

Mr. Perry, still shocked and staring at Todd, said, “Weren’t you…?”

Todd had no desire to bring up Neil. It was a taboo subject, especially at so festive an occasion. He couldn’t bring himself to say Neil’s name, so he simply croaked out, “H-his l-last roommate.”

At this, Mrs. Perry lapsed into a fit of tears, and said, “I…you’ll have to excuse me from the living room for a moment.” She rushed into the foyer, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. Mr. Perry ran out after her.

The uncomfortable air remained in the room for a moment, but was interrupted by the sound of the telephone ringing in the kitchen.

“Hello?” That was Mrs. Danburry. She had stopped refilling wine glasses in order to answer the call. “Yes, he is here. Hold on just one second…” Mrs. Danburry put the phone down and called from the kitchen. “Todd, it’s for you! The babysitter apparently.”

Todd, all thoughts of Mr. and Mrs. Perry aside, went to the kitchen to pick up the phone. After all, when the babysitter interrupts a party, it’s usually not a good thing.

Mrs. Danburry left the kitchen and shut the door behind Todd, who then took the phone off the countertop.

“Hello?” he asked. “Hannah?”

“Thank God…” Her voice came in over the phone. 

For a Red Cross certified babysitter, she sounded particularly panicked.

"What's going on?" Todd asked her, concern evident in his voice. 

“Everything was fine. I put the kids to bed, and they were really good before that. We did sock puppet shows. Your son really likes puppet shows- but now I think he just had a nightmare, and wet the bed, and I don’t know what to do!”

_Oh,_ Todd thought. Neil did have nightmares on occasion, and that was an awkward position for a babysitter. “I’ll be at the house in just a few minutes,” he told Hannah.

_At least I have a valid reason to leave the party this time,_ Todd reflected as he drove back to his parent’s house. He felt a little guilty for leaving Cat alone, but he knew she could handle herself at the Danburry’s a lot better than he could, especially after what had happened with Mr. and Mrs. Perry.

When he got to the house, Hannah was waiting for him at the door with Neil.

“Daddy!” Neil, who was in embarrassed tears, gave his father a hug.

“It’s okay,” Todd told him. “We’ll change your sheets and I’ll read to you a little. Then I have to go back to the fancy big people party, okay?”

Neil nodded. “Okay, daddy.”

After Todd had put clean sheets on the bed, he asked what book Neil wanted read to him. The extra weight of Todd’s book bag really came from an excess of children’s books that he took on trips.

“The dragon one, daddy!” Neil was referring to _My Father’s Dragon,_ which had been read to him multiple times before, but was still one of his favorites.

Todd sighed. “I don’t have time to read all of that one…”

“Some?” Neil was dead set on the dragon book.

“Alright,” Todd told him, as he got out the book and began to read. “My Father meets a cat….”

“Why can’t I talk to cats?” Neil asked, halfway through the chapter.

“Well, you can,” Todd told him. “They just don’t talk back in English.”

“What language do cats speak?”

The little boy was filled with questions, some of which were simply not answerable.

When Todd finished the chapter, he gave his son a kiss on the forehead, and said, “I’ve got to go back to the big people party now. See you in the morning.”

Once Todd got back to the Danburry’s, he went into the dining room, where he found his wife munching on the chocolate covered pretzels. She looked oddly annoyed.

“You okay?” he asked her.

She looked up from the tray of pretzels, with relief on her face. “You’re back, thank heavens.” She walked over and kissed him on the cheek.

“W-what happened?” he asked.

“You were right,” she said. “Your family is nuts. Everyone got into this whole conversation about how dreadful it is that no one is as hard on communists as McCarthy was back in the day, and I sort of snapped, because honestly. Most of those blacklisted people weren’t even communists. I may have told everyone to go read _The Crucible_ , and come back when they got the point…. Of course, that only prompted the reaction of ‘women shouldn’t talk about serious matters.’ I have a master’s degree for heaven’s sake! I will talk about serious matters if I want to.”

Todd was laughing, though that probably wasn’t the best reaction for the moment.

“What?” Cat demanded.

“I…should have warned you about the McCarthyism thing,” Todd told her, still chuckling. “I forgot to mention it.”

“Well,” Cat said with a sigh. “Is there any way we can just leave?”

Todd held up the car keys. “There is a reason we drove separately from my parents.”

“You. Are. My. Hero,” Cat said, kissing her husband again, this time on the lips. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Catherine and I are going to head home,” Todd said, poking his head into the living room.

“Already?” asked Mrs. Danburry. “Sure you don’t want to stay a little while longer?”

“No,” Todd told her, politely turning down the offer. “We w-want to pick up some groceries on the way back, so we best be going before the stores all close.”

“Merry Christmas then,” Mrs. Danburry told them as they left the house. “It was lovely seeing you!”

“I’ll drive,” Cat told Todd, as they got in the car. “Back to your parent’s house, I guess?”

“Actually,” Todd said, “I do want to stop at the store…and pick up some flowers. Then, if y-you d-don’t mind, one more stop?”

Catherine knew full well where Todd wanted to go, and as much as she didn’t want to see him torn up, she figured she’d take him there.

“That’s fine,” she said. Then she noticed something odd. “Why is _My Father’s Dragon_ in the passenger seat?”

“Oh, this?” Todd picked up the book. “I was reading to Neil. I must have brought it back with me by mistake.”

They drove to the store where they bought some Poinsettias, and then went out to the cemetery.

“Pretty bleak place,” Catherine said, as they got out of the car.

“B-believe me, I k-know.” Todd, who was holding the flowers and _My Father’s Dragon,_ stuttered out the short sentence, partially because it was freezing outside, and partially because he felt incredibly awkward bringing his wife to Neil Perry’s gravestone.

It didn’t take him long to find it, though the last time he had been there was years ago.

“1942 to 1959….” Catherine breathed, the wave of sadness washing over her. “God…”

Todd, who couldn’t talk at this point gave her a look that said, ‘please don’t.’ So, she stopped speaking, and merely watched as her husband laid the flowers and the book on the grave.

“Why the book?” she asked.

This was a question that Todd could answer. Not well, though. “It just feels right,” he said. “Besides, we’ll replace it.”

“You ready to go?” Cat didn’t think it was a good idea to let Todd stay here for too long.

“I…have to write a note f-first…” Todd said, pulling a notebook from his pocket. He still carried one there, just in case. Cat just nodded. A note should be fine, she figured. Todd scrawled on the piece of paper:

_Dear Neil,_

_I know. It’s been a really long time since I wrote to you last. I still miss you. I don’t think that’s ever going to change though. I’ll always miss you, and there will always be far too many ‘what ifs?’ I’m married now…that probably comes as a surprise, I know, given everything we went through together, but I do love her, so don’t worry about that. The wedding was good. Knox was our best man, and my parents actually behaved themselves. Meeks and Pitts were there too, and they’re doing postgraduate research in England now. And Charlie...was drafted. We don’t talk about that much. I left you a book. It’s my son’s favorite though I don’t know if you ever read it. There are a lot of things I never learned about you really. My son’s name is Neil, after you of course. Your parents found that out tonight, and it wasn’t pretty, to say the least. His middle name’s John; because of…you know…Mr. Keating. My daughter’s name is Emily, after…you’ll laugh. Emily Dickinson. She was a hermit and poet. That kind of reminds you of how I used to be, doesn’t it? Anyway, I am doing well, and only trying to live my life like anyone else, which is good. That’s a lot better than I was the first few years after you…left. I guess I’m just writing to say Merry Christmas Neil Perry. I love you and I miss you._

_Much Love,_

_Todd_

Todd, who had gotten choked up writing his letter, was now sitting on the ground with a tight grip on the paper in his hand.

Cat knelt down next to him, and rubbed his back. “It’s okay,” she soothed. “You can let go of it…”

Todd relinquished his grip on the note, and dropped it by Neil’s grave.

“I-I know,” he said. “I-I just…it a-all feels s-so weird, b-being h-here with y-you n-now. L-like e-everything’s moved on but h-he’s still t-there, frozen in t-time.” The words were so hard to get out, and Todd was crying now, crying really hard.

Cat pulled him into a tight hug. She really couldn’t imagine what Todd was feeling, and whatever it all was, she didn’t want him to have to feel it alone.

They sat in silence for a few more minutes before Todd wiped his tears, stood up, and said, “I think we should go back now.”

Cat could only nod, as she took his hand. They walked back to the car in silence, listening to the howling wind, and watching, much to Todd’s discomfort, the first of the night’s snowflakes fall from the sky.


	3. Christmas Three

The long drive from Manhattan to Vermont was not how Neil Anderson wanted to spend his Christmas holiday. Two months ago when his mother called to tell him they would be having Christmas at his dad’s family, instead of hers’, Neil was so distraught that he completely butchered his audition to play Ariel in NYU’s fall semester production of _The Tempest_ , though, he had admittedly not been expecting it to be his best work anyway.

He did not understand why they couldn’t have a peaceful, calm Christmas with immediate family only. As far as he knew, his father’s parents were old, rich lunatics. _And_ McCarthyists. At least, so his mother often claimed. It was probably true, given they apparently thought even President Reagan was soft on Commies. 

There was one upside to this situation, however; Neil’s partner Luke, and their roommate Josie had agreed to join him for moral support, and thank God for that, because otherwise, Neil had no idea how he would survive the holiday, especially the dreaded Christmas party at the Danburry’s. Neil had never been to the party; the last time he was at his dad’s parents for Christmas, he was only six and had stayed in with a babysitter. This time, however, he couldn’t be so lucky. With his hands on the wheel and eyes still on the road, he took a deep breath in, and exhaled, quite loudly.

“It’s going to be okay, Neil,” said a calm voice, from one of the passenger seats. It was, of course, Luke, composed and compassionate as always. 

Neil sighed. “It’s just…” He paused for a moment, and then continued to speak. “These people- they’re crazy. The last time I saw them was for Thanksgiving when I was thirteen, and my dad and grandfather got into such a bad fight that the cranberry sauce ended up all over the white carpet. I don’t remember what it was about, but from all I know, I imagine my grandfather started it. He probably was ranting about President Carter and chastising dad for his life choices- you know, the whole ‘writing poetry is not a _real_ job’ thing.” 

Josie’s laugh rang out from the back seat. “Neil,” she began, “If the worst of it is hating President Carter, then they’re just like anyone else’s stick in the mud conservative relatives. It’s just a pity that they managed to vote in Reagan.” 

At that, there was an awkward pause, as all of them scrunched up their faces in disdain.

Luke broke the silence. “True,” he muttered. “But supporting Reagan is bad enough on its own.” Neil did not respond, as he had turned his full attention back to the road, but Jo concluded the sentiment. 

“Isn’t that the truth,” she said, gazing out the window. 

As Neil kept driving, he once again found himself drifting into his own thoughts. His main problem with his grandparents wasn’t Reagan. Of course, that _was_ a problem, especially for someone like him- a gay college student living in New York. But it wasn’t the primary reason Neil dreaded this visit. Instead, his heightened anxiety was fueled simply by how little he actually knew about his grandparents. And what he did know was not positive.

_Of course_ , Neil thought, _I realize what a private person my father is_. _But sometimes I wish he had shared a little more about his upbringing_. It was only a small complaint, he knew. Otherwise, he and his sister Emily enjoyed an extremely good relationship with their parents, who were forward thinking and encouraged higher education and nonconformity. Neil had, admittedly, still not told them that Luke was more than a friend. He didn’t want to test their limits, just in case, and besides, even if they were accepting, he knew they’d worry a lot given how widespread the AIDs epidemic had become. 

_And if I still feel like hiding my relationship from my parents_ , Neil thought, _then God help me having to see my dad’s parents later_ _today_. He continued driving in silence, fantasizing about all of the hypothetical ways to avoid the Danburry’s party. There were options, of course. They could turn around and go back to New York, or stop at a bar. Lord knows, he needed a drink. Yet, as appealing as these ideas were, Neil knew better than to test his father’s anxiety. Not to mention, he didn’t want to waste money on a payphone. So, he kept driving, until, at last, they were only a few short minutes away from the Danburry’s.

“I can’t do this,” he blurted out suddenly. “We have to detour, or something like that. The longer we avoid that stupid party, the better.”

Luke, who was holding the map in the passenger seat, was visibly frustrated. “Neil, we’re almost there. We need to be there on time, or your parents will worry. You know how your dad-” 

But his intervention was too late, for the little silver car had taken a sharp left, causing its passengers to lurch violently to one side. Luke, now a vile shade of green, turned toward Neil, with an irritated look on his face. “That was a wrong turn,” he muttered, “and way above the speed limit.”

Jo, however, had a different perspective. “Don’t be such a killjoy, Luke. A small detour never hurt anyone.” She let out a long yawn and stretched. “Besides, it’s much more exciting than going to a Christmas party hosted by Neil’s grandparent’s seventy-something year old friends.”

Luke shot her a look that clearly meant, ‘don’t encourage him,’ but Jo simply shrugged, saying, “maybe instead of worrying so much, you should look at the map and see where this road goes.”

Luke had to concede that she had a valid point. A detour was frustrating enough. Not knowing where they were going? That was much worse. So he traced his finger on the map, before looking up and saying, “It’s a dead end, guys. We should just turn around and go back.” 

Jo, excited by the prospect of the adventure, was having none of it. “A dead end?” she asked. “Well, where does it stop? We’re not in a residential area.”

Luke groaned with his head in his hands. He knew the answer, but didn’t want to say, because he didn’t think it mattered. Still, lying was useless, and he knew if he didn’t talk, Neil would start pestering him as well and he’d ultimately have no choice but to give in. 

“Um.. it says it goes to Wellton Academy,” he mumbled. 

“What was that?” Josie asked. “I didn’t quite catch that.” 

Luke sighed and looked up. “Wellton Academy,” he said, audibly this time. “That’s where this road goes. Some boring prep school for rich kids, and it’ll be empty because it’s the holidays. Sounds spooky, if you ask me. Now can we turn around?”

Neil, who had been listening attentively the whole time, finally spoke up. “Wellton Academy?” He furrowed his brow. “That’s where my dad went to school. Well, one of the places. He was at Balincrest before he transferred to Wellton for his senior year. He doesn’t talk about it a lot, though. Of course, I know Wellton is where he met his friends Knox and Charlie. And also that Charlie was expelled for some reason or another, which is why he got sent to military school, never went to college, and ended up in Vietnam…” 

Neil trailed off. He really did not know much about his father’s time at Wellton, and it still floored him that his dad, of all people, had a friend who got expelled. Otherwise, all he knew about the school was that trigonometry was hard, the headmaster was a dick, and for some godforsaken reason they used corporal punishment on students. He really couldn’t blame his father for not bringing it up much.

As the car zoomed down the road, the tree line started to recede, and the figure of Welton Academy appeared in the distance.

“Looks a bit like a French prison to me,” mused Josie. “The scenery’s nice and all, but I don’t get a good vibe from this place.” 

“From everything I understand, my Dad didn’t like it either,” Neil told her as he parked the car. “Authoritarian teachers, the classes were really hard… the usual. Dad never mentions it much, though, so I always wonder if there was something else. After all, he’s never told us the whole story behind Charlie’s expulsion.” Neil shrugged. “I think mom knows. I mean, I’m sure she does and just doesn’t want to divulge dad’s secrets. But I still wish I knew more.”

“Of all the things I thought I would be doing,” Luke said with a sigh, “playing detective at a boys prep school was not one of them. It’s because of all the old Hardy Boys books you’ve been reading Neil. Your collection has taken over the floor of our room…” At that, he shot Neil a cheeky look. 

Neil groaned. The Hardy Boys collection had become a slight source of contention between the two of them, mostly because of the mess, but also because they both knew the books had some problematic content.

Josie started to giggle and Neil turned an embarrassed shade of pink. As the flushed look spread across his face, he said, “Sometimes you have to relive childhood…but it isn’t that. My dad almost never talks about this place. Em and I used to ask him about it as kids and he would always change the subject.” 

“I don’t know what you expect to find,” said Luke. “It’s Christmas break. No one’s going to be here, and all the doors will be locked.” 

“We could always break in…” Josie jokingly suggested. 

“I’ll do a lot of things, Jo,” Neil said, “but I tend to draw the line at breaking and entering.” 

“Well, I was just kidding,” Josie told him. 

“Sure you were,” Luke muttered under his breath.

Neil let out a chuckle.

“What?” Josie asked. “You don’t really think I would…well, actually, you have a point.”

“We aren’t supporting your criminal urges, Jo,” said Luke, “but I suppose we could go for a walk around the campus, being mindful of the time, of course. We can’t delay the party forever.” 

Josie sighed, defeated. “Well, that isn’t prying windows open with a crowbar,” she said, “but it will have to do, I suppose. Though, if we can’t break in, we at least have to build a snowman!” At that, she flung open the car door and ran off through the snow, shrieking gleefully.

“What are we going to do with her?” sighed Luke, as he and Neil got out of the car. 

Neil shrugged. “I don’t know, but life would be a lot duller without her. No one to try and convince us to break into buildings…” 

“Or to nearly burn down the kitchen,” Luke added.

Earlier that year, Josie had been frying grilled cheese and left the dish towel right next to the burner. Just afterwards, Luke poured a glass of milk in the kitchen, and noticed the towel catching on fire. The milk ended up splattered all over the stove, but the kitchen was saved, and the only relic of the incident was a slightly burnt dishcloth. Both boys smiled at the memory as they watched Jo continue to spin around like a maniac in the snow. 

“We’d better go help her with that snowman,” Neil said. Josie was already beginning to roll up a ball of snow for the base. 

Thirty minutes later, they stood in front of an almost completed snowman. There were no buttons for the eyes and mouth, so they sacrificed a pack of M&Ms that Josie had brought along.

“It’s for a good cause,” she said, as she alternated the greens and reds to make a perfect, Christmas colored, smiling mouth. Then she put two brown ones on for the eyes. 

After Luke put sticks in for the arms, Neil ran over from the car with a fading red scarf, and they completed the snowman. 

“He’s so cute!” Josie squealed. “With his chocolate mouth and eyes!” 

“What should we name him?” Neil asked.

“How about…” Josie was wracking her brain for something. 

“Just not Frosty,” Luke commented. 

“I am not going to name our snowman something that cliché!” Jo exclaimed. “I was thinking Puck.” 

“I like it,” Neil said. “Our mischievous M&M snowman…”

Despite his serious nature, Luke couldn’t help but play along. “His snow spirit will wreak havoc all over this school, even after he’s melted!” 

“You know,” Neil mused, “my dad used take Emily, Mom and me to Shakespeare plays all the time. But we never went to A Midsummer Night’s dream. Never once. The community theater in Salem did it a few years ago, and Em begged to go. She loves the comedies, even more than me, and dad normally would never have told her no, but he would not go see A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

“That’s bizarre,” Luke said, his brow furrowed. “That’s really odd. There’s nothing wrong with A Midsummer Night’s Dream. I can’t see why he wouldn’t…”

“Em asked Mom why not,” Neil told him, “and she said not to bug Dad any more about it.” 

“Weird,” Josie muttered. “There’s no logic behind that at all. Plus, your Dad tends to be pretty reasonable.” 

Luke glanced down at his wristwatch. “Well, he won’t be if we never show up at that Christmas Party.” 

“I don’t want to go,” moaned Neil. “They’re all insane!”

“And we aren’t?” Luke asked, pointing at Jo, who was making faces and talking to Puck the snowman. 

“That’s not exactly what I mean…” Neil trailed off.

“I know,” Luke told him, “but I know you. And I know you don’t want your Dad to panic.” 

Josie stopped poking at the snowman, and said, “Snowman Puck doesn’t want him to either.” 

“I guess we can’t go against the will of snowman Puck,” Neil said. “We should probably go.” 

As Neil drove toward the Danburry’s house, Josie traced stick figures in the fogged up window.

“I liked snowman Puck. He was a nice snowman,” she mused. “Still weird that you’ve never seen A Midsummer Night’s Dream though, Neil.” 

He shrugged. “I wish we had seen it, but I’m sure I’ll get my chance. I doubt I’ll get out of school without seeing it at least once. But right now I’ve got to memorize lines for _Earnest_.” 

“I can hardly wait to see Earnest,” Luke said. “It’s one of my favorites. Plus, with you as Algernon…” He winked at Neil. 

Josie slid her hand down the window, and glanced up toward the front of the car. “Way to make things awkward,” she teased. 

Neil looked back at her, grinning. “Sorry, Jo. We’ll behave.” 

“Good,” she said. “Because if the two of you continue flirting it might be the death of your McCarthyist grandparents and their conservative friends.”

Luke laughed. “Wow. I never pegged you for the sensible one, Jo. But honestly, Neil and I know better than to divulge that aspect of our relationship with his grandparents, thank you very much.” 

Neil’s car soon skidded into a driveway. “We’re here,” he said. “Welcome to the 1950s guys.” 

“I wonder how many I Love Lucy reruns the Danburry’s watch…” Jo mused, as they all got out of the car and walked to the door. 

“I wouldn’t ask,” Neil told her. He rang the doorbell, and Mrs. Danburry was quick to answer. 

“You must be Todd’s oldest! And your friends, of course,” she gushed. “Come in, come in. Your parents have been worried about you running late. I told your father that it was probably just traffic and snow slowing you down… but he does worry, that one. You can hang up your coats on the rack right there!”

As they hung up their coats and walked into the living room, Luke leaned over and whispered to Neil.

“So it doesn’t seem terrible so far.” 

“The pleasantries don’t last, apparently,” Neil told him grimly. 

“Oh, thank God, you’ve made it!” Cat rushed over to hug her son the instant she saw him walk into the living room. “And it’s good to see both of you again,” she said, looking at Luke and Jo.

“Good to see you, too, Mrs. Anderson!” Luke told her. 

“Your father’s in the kitchen,” Cat told Neil. “He’s talking to Knox and Charlie.”

Neil sighed with relief. If his dad was talking with his two friends, he was probably not overtly worried. Todd, Knox, and Charlie had all been much closer recently, ever since they went to England for the funeral of their former English teacher earlier that year. 

“So, you’re Neil!” Mr. Overstreet said, as Neil and his friends sat down next to Cat and Emily. Neil noticed a man in the corner of the room cringe and disappear into the kitchen after mention of his name. He wasn’t sure why, but he assumed it polite not to ask. “Your sister here was telling me all about you. She says you’re a junior at NYU. That’s a good school.” 

Neil blushed and nodded. “Yeah. I- I enjoy it,” he stammered. He was not expecting this reaction, and somehow suspected that Em had failed to mentioned his course of study. Figuring that would be the next question, he quickly deflected attention away from himself. “I do well, but I mean, it’s not that impressive. For instance,” Neil gestured at his sister, “Em was just accepted at UCLA. She wants to write movie scripts.” 

Mr. Danburry looked appalled. “A woman screenwriter? Well, I’ll be.”

Em shot Neil a cross look, and he gave her a sheepish one in return. Both of them, however, knew better than to argue with Mr. Danburry, so they settled into an awkward silence.

Jo, on the other hand snorted derisively. “Honestly, you’d think it wouldn’t be so appalling by now.” 

A tense, pregnant pause ensued, but luckily no one took the bait.

“So…what do you two do?” Mrs. Danburry broke the silence and looked at Jo and Luke.

Luke, figuring it best to speak for Jo after her outburst said, “Well, I’m studying viola performance, and Jo is a visual artist. She graduated at the end of last year.”

Mrs. Danburry smiled. “You’re all so artistic. It’s lovely.” 

Neil hoped that would be that, but unfortunately, Mr. Overstreet had other ideas. “I suppose it’s nice and all,” he said, “but it’s completely unprofitable. I don’t understand how parents these days just let their children waste time with such endeavors.” 

Cat took a sip of wine, and spoke tersely. “Just because parents these days don’t insist that our children become doctors, lawyers, or housewives does not mean we don’t want them to have a good life. We just happen to trust them to take care of themselves while pursuing their passions.” 

Luke snuck Neil a quick look that appeared to say, ‘damn. Your mom is badass.’ Neil grinned back at him. 

Unfortunately, however, Mr. Anderson refused to let his daughter-in-law have the last word. “This ‘trusting your children’ nonsense is exactly the problem nowadays,” he retorted. “If you ask me, that is precisely why we have so many drug addicts, homosexuals, and commies in this country. At least President Reagan is working to clean it all up. A true, upstanding American.”

He held up his wine glass. “A toast to President Reagan!”

All of the older men and women in the room raised their glasses. “To President Reagan!” they said collectively. 

Jo, who certainly had not participated, was having none of it. “Well, thanks to your precious President Reagan, I have more loans to pay off than I ever could have imagined when I started school. Between waitressing, selling my art, and modeling for classes, I barely have enough to pay rent, and by God, if I weren’t up to my feet in loans, maybe I could have afforded a plane ticket to see my family in San Antonio for Christmas! But I couldn’t. So please do us all a favor and keep your opinions to yourselves.”

Charlie Dalton was now standing in the doorway with a smirk on his face. Mr. Overstreet had opened his mouth in an attempt to argue with Jo, but before he could say anything, Charlie piped up. “Are we insulting the President in here, because if so, I want to join in. That man is cutting Veterans benefits, and it is a real lowlife slap in the face to those of us who had to fight in Nam.”

Todd and Knox came to stand behind Charlie, and glanced at each other as if to say, _We should have known this party would lead to our families fighting over Ronald Reagan…_

Mr. Anderson straightened up. “Well, anyway, I’m sure we can still all agree that the President is a fine, upstanding…” 

“Oh, good God,” Neil sighed. “This is ridiculous.” 

Em sensed everyone’s frustration and she yawned. She had been at the party longer than her brother and his friends, and was eager to make an escape. “You know,” she said. “I’m quite exhausted. It’s been a long day, and it may be about time for me to turn in. I’m sure Neil and his friends wouldn’t mind driving me back.” 

“Not at all,” Luke said. He was relieved by the offer. It was better to leave before Jo go more heated, and he knew that if these old bats continued to treat Ronald Reagan like Jesus, he too would probably snap. 

“Yeah, that sounds just fine,” Neil said, getting his car keys out of his pocket. “We’re all pretty tired too, considering the drive and all.” 

They thanked Mrs. Danburry for her hospitality and headed off.

“Where to?” Neil asked as he put the key in the ignition. “Dad’s with Charlie and Knox. It’ll be at least another two hours before he makes it to the hotel.” 

Jo shrugged. “Let’s just take a drive through town and see what’s here.”

None of them found town particularly interesting, Jo least of all. “I pity your poor dad and his friends for ever having to live in such a dull place,” she mused. “I suppose there really is nothing particularly fascinating around here, though I’m not keen on turning in yet.” 

“There’s a Cemetery over there,” Em said, pointing to their left. “We could go have a walk around.” 

Luke was skeptical. He frowned, and said, “I don’t know if we should. It feels a bit wrong, you know, since we aren’t visiting anyone in particular.”

Neil understood the sentiment, but, as was often the case, his curiosity got the better of him.

“True,” he said, “but I supposed if we went back to town and got some flowers then it might seem like we were.”

Luke agreed. “That’d be okay with me.” 

When they returned to the cemetery, the wind was biting, but they quickly found something of interest.

“Neil, look!” Luke said. “This Gale Nolan guy was headmaster of Welton Academy when your dad was there!”

Neil glanced over at Mr. Nolan’s gravestone. “Yeah, he apparently once gave Charlie a serious whipping. From everything I know, Charlie was and is still a hell raiser. But Mr. Nolan was apparently a cold and callous hardass.” 

“Eh, we’ll give him a flower anyway,” Jo said, dropping a rose on his grave. “Maybe it will make him less of a hardass in death.” They all laughed.

“Look here!” Em said, pointing at another grave. “This person was named Neil.”

Jo turned around and started reading the stone. “Oh god…” she said, hoarsely.”

“What?” Neil rarely saw Jo so subdued, and it almost frightened him. 

“He died when he was seventeen,” she whispered somberly.

Em also continued to stare at the writing. “You know,” she whispered, “he would’ve been the same age as dad had he not…” she trailed off. 

Neil was taken aback seeing the grave of someone who would have been so close in age to his father. He couldn’t help but murmur, “I wonder if they knew each other.” 

“Well,” Em said, “they could have. Hasn’t mom mentioned that one of Dad’s old Welton friends died young? And he will rarely talk about that with anyone other than Knox or Charlie?”

“I think…” Neil wracked his brain trying to recall. “Yeah, she has. A long time ago…” 

“Maybe you’re named for him,” Em said. 

Their haunted expressions continued to stare at the grave.

“Flowers?” Just as Em and Neil had become more shaken up, Jo had regained her composure. 

“That’s probably a good idea,” said Luke, who had fallen silent for a few minutes. He walked over to hug Neil, and planted a discreet kiss on his neck. He hated seeing his boyfriend so spooked.

“I agree,” said Em. “We should just use the rest of the bouquet. I’m sure he deserves them.” She placed the flowers on the stone.

“I think,” Neil said as he wiggled out of Luke’s embrace, “that I want to write a note. It somehow seems appropriate.”

Jo pulled a small sketchpad out of her handbag. “I’ve got paper.” 

Neil took a sheet and started writing: 

_Dear Neil,_

_I don’t really know anything about you, except that you may have known my father. I know that’s only so likely- you could have gone to public school, after all. But it’s definitely possible. My dad went to Welton Academy and is the same age that you would have been if you were still alive today. My name is also Neil. Neil Anderson. My dad is Todd Anderson. I guess if he knew you, then there’s a slim chance I may be named after you. Strange, huh? I was at an awful Christmas Party tonight, with dad’s parents and their friends. Let’s just say their friends and my friends do not mix. My friend Jo is already a firecracker, and I can’t even imagine how they would have reacted if they found out my male roommate is actually my boyfriend. (You might have reacted badly to that as well; but as you’re dead, I don’t think it matters so much) We did manage to avoid most of the party though. We wasted a good hour when we stopped at Welton Academy and built a snowman named Puck. He’s undoubtedly wreaking havoc all over town tonight. Maybe he’ll pay you a visit._

_With much affection,_

_Neil Anderson_

Neil placed the paper on the gravestone and shivered. “Alright,” he said. “It’s time to head to the hotel.” 

* * *

An hour later, Todd, Charlie and Knox strolled through the same cemetery. 

“I feel like it’s been too long since I’ve paid him a proper visit,” Todd said. “Last time was fourteen years ago now…” 

“I wouldn’t blame yourself,” Knox told him. “Our parents are even crazier than they used to be. How that’s possible, I don’t know…”

“They were always completely unhinged, Knox,” said Charlie. “We just became saner.” 

Todd laughed. That was Charlie. Blunt and to the point. He still held nothing back. 

“Here we are,” Knox said, as the three of them finally approached Neil’s grave. He noticed flowers and paper already lying there, and looked at Todd and Charlie with a bemused expression on his face.

“It looks like someone got here before us…” 

“That’s…never happened before,” Todd told him. 

“Maybe the Perrys left something,” Knox said, shrugging. “Seems a bit odd though, since it isn’t quite Christmas yet.” 

Charlie picked up the letter, and started to read.

“Charlie, honestly!” Todd was frustrated. “That’s probably a private letter. We really shouldn’t—” 

But his plea was in vain. Charlie handed Todd the letter. “Your kid wrote it, it seems.” 

“You’re bluffing,” Todd said, as he took the letter, shaken by Charlie’s statement. “This is one of your usual jokes and it’s going to be someone else—"

Todd started to read the letter. “You…w-weren’t lying…” he stammered, still staring at the words. “I d-don’t know how Neil could possibly have found his way out here or how he would’ve… I never told him.” He looked up at Charlie and Knox. “I never told him,” he repeated, as if trying to convince himself. 

“You never told your own son about his namesake?” Charlie was incredulous, and Todd sensed a bit of anger as well. 

“W-well, I…” Todd was stammering again. He wanted desperately to explain himself to Charlie, but couldn’t find the right words.

Knox came to his defense, “Don’t worry, Todd,” he said. “We know that you don’t like to talk about him…” 

Todd felt tears sting his eyes. He tried to blink them back without success. _Damnit,_ he thought. He’d not cried over Neil in years. Not since he’d come here with Cat. Charlie and Knox both came over to hug him, and the string of disjointed sentences soon emerged.

“He should know. I know he should know, b-but it’s just…I never could…I g-grieved for y-years. It’s a f-fucking wonder I ever made it through college. I mean, I went to school in Virginia j-just to get away from all of it. And I did meet Cat. And she knows everything. And that always felt like enough.”

Todd gasped for air. He didn’t have the energy to keep talking. 

“You’re…going to have to tell him,” Knox said quietly.

“I know,” Todd said. “But first I’ve got to write a note of my own.” 

Todd fumbled through his pocket for his pen and notepad, but the moment he grasped them in his shaking hands, he dropped them in the snow. 

“Shit,” he muttered, picking up the drenched paper. “Shit.” 

“Todd…” Knox murmured softly. “Are you…?”

Todd took a breath to quell the shaking and nodded.

“Yeah… yeah… I’ll be fine,” he said, staring at the soggy notepad. “But I’m going to ask you guys to do something you won’t like.” 

A concerned look crossed Knox’s face. This was unlike Todd.

“What is it?” he asked. 

“Go on to the bar without me,” Todd said quietly. “I want to stay here for a while.” 

Knox looked incredulous, but Charlie simply nodded. He had read the letter too, and his intuition told him that Todd needed some time to process things alone.

“Do you have change for the payphone?” he asked. 

“Yeah, plenty,” Todd told him. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll call Cat and have her pick me up in a little while. She’s still at the party, talking to Ginny.”

“Alright.” Knox agreed, finally conceding that Todd would, in fact, be okay and was in his right mind. 

“We’ll be off, then,” Charlie said, dangling the car keys in his hands. “Be safe, Todd, and don’t stay out here too long!” 

Charlie and Knox walked to back the parking lot, and, as they did, Todd’s eyes fixed themselves back on Neil’s headstone. A wry smile crossed his lips. “You know, Neil Perry,” he said aloud. “You’ve been gone almost thirty years now, and somehow you’re still forcing me out of my shell.” He chuckled a bit, before adding, “and I still miss you.” 

He quickly wiped a tear from his eye, and looked up to see if Charlie and Knox had gone. They had. He sighed. He knew he could just call Cat, who would happily come get him, but he wasn’t going to interrupt her time with Ginny. Those two had become fast friends years ago, and, of course, it wasn’t as if Ginny could just duck out of her own parents’ Christmas party. At least, not without it becoming a ridiculous conflict. No, Todd knew who he had to call. 

He walked over to the payphone, ice cold coins jingling in his hand. When he finally reached the booth, he breathed a sigh of relief, because the confined space trapped at least a small amount of heat. He dropped the coins in their slot one by one, and quickly dialed the number for the hotel. The phone rang. 

“Hello?” It was the receptionist.

“Hi,” Todd answered. “My family are staying at your hotel for the next few nights… uh, booking’s under my name- Todd Anderson. I’m out right now, but I’m trying to get a hold of my son. He and his friends should have arrived not long ago. Is there any way you could dial the extension to their room?” 

The receptionist paused for a second, no doubt flipping through her list of reservations, but it wasn’t long before she said, “Yes, they got here just under an hour ago. I’ll be more than happy to dial you in.” 

The phone rang twice more before someone else picked up. It was Neil. 

“Hi, who is this?” 

Todd, feeling relieved that his son had answered, and not one of the roommates, quickly said, “It’s me- Dad.” 

“Oh.” Neil sounded surprised. “Is everything okay? I can tell you called from a payphone, and not the Danburry’s.” 

Todd could note the hint of concern in his son’s voice, and wanted to reassure him that all was well. “Yes, yes. It’s just that there’s something I wanted to talk to you about. I’m fine, there’s nothing to worry about. The reason I’m calling is- and I know this may sound odd- well, were you and your friends in the cemetery tonight?” 

Neil was taken aback. “Y-yes…” he stammered, “but how would you know that?” 

“I was there not long ago with Knox and Charlie,” Todd said. “Well, I’m still here. Told Knox and Charlie to leave without me. We found some stuff that you left at a particular grave.” 

It took all of Neil’s willpower not to drop the phone. _Shit_ , he thought. _The letter. I hope no one read it_.

“Neil?” Todd wanted to make sure his son was still on the line. 

“Yeah, I’m still here,” Neil said, clenching the phone tightly.

Todd spoke again. “I was wondering if you’d come meet me here- don’t worry if you don’t want to come back out- your mom can always pick me up- but I think that there’s some stuff we need to talk about…” He trailed off. 

“Dad…” Neil said nervously. “About that—”

Instantly, Todd realize what was bothering his son. “Don’t worry about Luke,” he said gently. “Your mother and I had our suspicions anyway. We’re happy for you no matter what.” 

“Oh.” Neil felt his jaw drop. He’d had no idea his parents were that intuitive, and if this was going to be something more than an uncomfortable discussion about his sexuality, he knew he’d best drive out to meet his dad. “I’ll be there in 10,” he said, before hanging up the phone.

Shortly afterwards, Neil’s silver car pulled into the cemetery lot for the second time that night. Todd was waiting for him when he got out of the car. 

Neil quickly checked to make sure no one was within earshot before saying, “Dad, I’m sorry I hadn’t told you about Luke. I guess I just thought that maybe… I mean, I know you and mom would never disown me or anything… but I wasn’t sure you’d understand…” His voice trailed off. 

“I’m not mad at you for keeping it a secret,” Todd reassured his son. “In fact, I know all too well what that’s like. You may have figured out that there’s something I’ve been avoiding telling you, too.” 

Neil stood there silently before saying, “well… there are some things I’ve been wondering about, yeah…” 

“Let’s walk,” Todd told him. Neil suddenly knew exactly where his father was taking him, and, unsurprisingly, a few minutes later, they were both once again standing by Neil Perry’s grave.

Taking in the sobriety of it for the second time that night, Neil choked out, “Who was he, dad? And is this why you named me Neil?” 

Todd looked at his son, and confirmed the answer to the second question. “He is why you’re named Neil, yes.” Todd continued. “He was my first roommate at Wellton. He wanted to be an actor, rather than a doctor, much to his father’s displeasure. He got a role playing Puck in A Midsummer Night’s Dream at Henley Hall. We all went on opening night- me, Knox, Charlie, Pitts, Meeks- yes, even Cameron- and our English teacher at the time, Mr. Keating, who was later fired- unjustly, I might add. Neil’s father found out about the play later that night- he walked into the theater during the last scene. After that, he threatened to pull Neil from Wellton and send him to military school. Neil shot himself.” Todd was staring at his feet, now, not daring to look his son in the eyes. 

This wasn’t what Neil had been expecting to hear. Of course, given the dates on the gravestone he wasn’t anticipating a heartening story, but this? This was awful.

“Dad?” he whispered. 

Todd looked up. “I’m sorry I never told you.” 

Neil shook his head. “Don’t apologize. It makes sense why you wouldn’t have wanted to bring this up around Em and me. Is this everything?” 

“Not quite.” Todd traced his foot on the ground, before returning his gaze to his son. “When I read your letter, I thought it was important that you know something. Neil Perry and I were not just friends.” 

Neil’s eyes went wide. Of all things, _this_ was not what he was expecting. “W-what?” He spluttered. “But… but… does mom-?” The words stuck like glue in his mouth. 

“She’s known since before we were married,” Todd assured him. “And, for the record, I love your mother very much. After Neil Perry died, I didn’t think anyone could know me so profoundly until I met her.” 

“Ah.” Neil was certainly relieved to hear this. He never thought his parents’ marriage was one of convenience, and would have been extremely startled if he’d been told it was. Still, he was shocked by his father’s revelation. “Does anyone else know?” 

“Charlie,” Todd replied, “But he’d never tell a soul. I should also confess that he picked up your letter before I did- but don’t worry about that. Like I said, he’d never dare out me, and by extension, definitely not you.” 

Neil nodded. That made sense, even from what little he knew about Charlie. Given Charlie’s military service, Neil figured Charlie probably kept others’ secrets, too.

He fixed his eyes on Neil Perry’s grave for a few moments longer, before glancing back at Todd. The words came back slowly. “Thanks for telling me about this, dad. I’m sure it was hard as hell. And I’m thankful you understand- in more ways than one.” 

Neil took a big gulp of cold air before realizing his eyes were burning, and it wasn’t the wind. Tears dribbled down his cheeks. He wasn’t sure exactly why he was crying. Part of it was grief; he’d sensed just how painful these memories were for his father to bring up. On the other hand, he was relieved. Relieved to be one of the few lucky ones with parents who actually understood. And he was grateful that his father trusted him enough to share the truth about Neil Perry. 

He could feel his nose running, and his chest heaved a little bit as he tried to breathe in again. A firm hand was on his back. His dad’s, he knew. 

“Are you okay?” Todd asked, the sympathy apparent in his voice. 

Neil jerked his head. “Yeah- yeah, I think I am. Just overwhelmed.” 

Todd nodded. He knew his son was easily flooded with emotions, and had been surprised to this point by just how calm Neil had been.

“I understand,” he said. “You should take a few minutes. I have something I need to do as well, anyway.” 

Todd knew his notepad was mostly dry by now after its snow excursion, and Neil was still slowly collecting himself. So, Todd began to write. 

_Dear Neil,_

_I know it’s been fourteen years now—I can only say I’m sorry. But, then again, I know you wouldn’t begrudge me for not returning here often. You know what our families are like- better than anyone. And I have to tell you- they haven’t improved. Fortunately, the rest of us have gone on to live our own lives. Not that it’s been perfect, mind you. Charlie had to go to Vietnam, and even though he was never wounded, I think he still struggles with the psychological impact. I know I told you last time about my family- my wife, Cat, and my kids, Neil and Emily. Neil and Em are both grown now. Emily was just accepted at UCLA, and moves across the country in August. She wants to write for movies, if you’ll believe that. Neil is at NYU, studying theater- I know, I know. It’s too on the nose. But he’d be the first to claim that Shakespeare is not his forte. He is, however, going to be in a spring production of Oscar Wilde’s ‘Importance of Being Earnest.’ I don’t know if you ever read that one, but it’s funny as shit. You’d love it. Most unusually, you’re getting two letters tonight. My kids and their friends were here earlier, and Neil wrote one for you. Without actually knowing who you were. Of course, I had to tell him the truth, finally. I know, I know, I’m sorry. I should have told him long ago. But it did lead to a string of events where we realized we had more in common than we thought. I think you, of all people could wager a guess about what that means… Not that I didn’t suspect it, naturally. I know exactly what that’s like, considering you were the first person I ever truly fell in love with. Merry Christmas Neil._

_I still love you—I always will,_

_Todd_

Todd put away his paper and pen and looked back up at his son, who was now calmly tracing lines in the snow with a stick. 

“Are you ready to go?” Todd asked. 

Neil dropped the stick back on the ground and nodded. “Definitely,” he said. “I think Jo has plans to spike some cocoa, and I really don’t want to miss out.” A glimmer of a smile crossed his face. 

Todd knew then that everything would be alright. “Let’s go,” he said, beckoning toward the car. “And I’ll drive. I think you’ve been through enough this evening.” Neil tossed him the keys. As the two of them walked away, Todd couldn’t help but wonder what his seventeen-year-old self would have made of this future. It was certainly different from anything he ever could have imagined, but he knew he wouldn’t trade it for the world. And, he swore, come hell or high water, he would always love his children unconditionally. _After all_ , he thought, _I couldn’t think of a better way to honor Neil Perry_. 


End file.
